


The Last Thing I Do will Be the First Thing I Change

by tothebatcave53



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Time Travel, emotional distress, everyone does live, starting over and learning from past mistakes, traveling back in time to prevent bad things from happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 05:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12523760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothebatcave53/pseuds/tothebatcave53
Summary: Yuuri had thought his life was finally perfect, that his life with Victor was perfect. They were happy, married long enough for their skin to wrinkle, for their bones to ache and for their hearts to grow so much closer. But even all the love in the world sometimes can’t save you from the demons you harbor inside. Yuuri finds out just how much Victor was hiding when he comes home one day to an endless silence and the shattering of everything he ever held dear.Yuuri isn’t sure which is worse, remembering his husband and all the hurt that came with his suicide or being sent back in time to try to stop it from happening all over again. For whatever reason, Yuuri has been given another chance to save the man he loves and he can’t fail, not when he knows what a life without Victor feels like.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the Victuuri Big Bang. It was fun working on this and thankfully my artist put up with my insane writing schedule. 
> 
> You can check them out I'm on [tumblr](http://swordbreaker.tumblr.com). I'm so lucky that I got to work with them, thank you <3

It was storming the day that Victor died, rain falling in heavy sheets to the ground. It muffled the outside world, trapped Yuuri inside with a living nightmare and his screams of heartbreak. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t been around when his husband of almost fifty years lost the silent battle with depression and ended his life. 

Yuuri found the note first, he found Victor right after. He’d been curled up in their bed, around Yuuri’s pillow the same way he slept most nights. Yuuri remembers Victor, how cold his skin was, how dull death had made his once radiant face. Death didn’t look like it had brought Victor peace but that his beloved husband had left full of sadness and remorse. 

Yuuri stumbled through phone calls, his voice a babbling mess before the police finally arrived. Phichit ends up on the next flight to Japan. Somehow, Yuuri makes it through the day a pale and stumbling shadow before he collapses on the couch, unable to put himself in their bedroom knowing that Victor won’t be there. 

When Yuuri wakes up the next morning the rain has passed but tears still streak down his cheeks. Everything feels heavy with his grief. His bed too cold, too small, too…

“Get up Yuuri!”

Yuuri bolts upright at the call of his name. He tumbles forward, not expecting the edge of the bed to be so near and smashes into the floor. Rough carpet drags along his cheek, very different than the plush rug that always warmed his and Victor’s feet at night.

“Honestly.”

Yuuri looks up to see who is speaking. Standing in the doorway is Phichit, looking amused at Yuuri’s strangely contorted body until he notices the tear tracks on his cheeks and hurries forward.

“Are you okay?” Phichit asks, pulling Yuuri up and into a hug. “You couldn’t have hit your head that hard. Are you feeling homesick?”

Yuuri has no idea how long ago Phichit arrived or how many days he’s been asleep but he clings to his friend gratefully, burying his face in the soft material of his training shirt. “He’s dead Peach… I’ll never see him again.” The admission makes new tears spring to his eyes and Yuuri starts crying all over again.

“Whose dead?”

A deep stab of pain shoots through Yuuri’s heart that Phichit would twist at a still so recent wound. “Victor.”

“Victor Nikiforov?” Phichit pulls back, confusion on his face.

Yuuri pulls away as well, the pain still too fresh. “You know that’s who Peach; I called you first after it happened.” Yuuri wraps his arms tight around his stomach, trying to ignore how much having to say it aloud makes him feel like he’s going to be sick.

“Yuuri I think you’re confused…” Phichit doesn’t continue until Yuuri’s looking up at him. “Victor Nikiforov is still alive and well last I heard. He’s competing this week at Skate Canada. Remember?”

Yuuri’s heart shoots up through his throat and lodges there painfully. “Skate Canada?” That can’t be right. Ignoring the fact that it was the off season so neither of them had students to teach, Victor had retired from professional skating years ago.

“Here let me show you.” Phichit pulls out his phone and Yuuri sees the familiar Instragram icon and then a selfie of Victor at the ice rink. It’s tagged, posted 24 hours ago. The wrinkles on Victor’s face are gone, replaced by smooth skin. His hair is full and shiny, his eyes bright with the energy of youth and the ability to go out and skate a gold medal winning performance. 

It’s Victor, smiling wide, very young and so alive.

“Yuuri, you’re scaring me,” Phichit mumbles when Yuuri yanks the phone from his hands.

Yuuri doesn’t care because it’s his husband, alive and smiling but most importantly alive and oh, what Yuuri wouldn’t give to be there right now to kiss him, tell him how much he loved him, beg Victor to never leave him again. 

“Maybe I should call Celestino…” Phichit starts to try to pull the phone away but Yuuri can’t let it go. His fingers are frozen around it. The post is dated 2012, October, which would be correct if Yuuri hadn’t just been in the year 2059. The date at the top of Phichit’s phone is the same and when he googles today's date it reads back October 26th, 2012, 9:43 am.  

With shaking limbs Yuuri pushes himself up to look at his surroundings clearly for the first time. He’s in his dorm room, the dorm he and Phichit shared during his years attending college in America, training here with his friend under Celestino.

Yuuri has the start of a splitting headache and the feeling that he might be sick very, very soon. He only makes it halfway into the bathroom before he’s leaning over the sink and throwing up. Ears ringing, Yuuri slumps down against the cool tile on the wall. His throat burns from stomach acid. He can hear Phichit whispering on the phone, presumably with their coach but he can’t move, can’t ask what’s going on. 

The year is wrong. The month is wrong. The days that Yuuri had lived only moments before are apparently long gone, taking with it a future that he hasn’t been allowed to live out yet. Nothing makes sense and Yuuri’s emotions are torn between raging panic about how he got here and overwhelming joy that Victor is okay. 

“Yuuri?” 

He looks up with blurry eyes, whining when Phichit presses a cool rag against his forehead and helps him sip down some water. 

“I’m gonna help you back to bed okay? I told Celestino we aren’t going to be in today… He’s going to stop by later.” Phichit lifts him, half dragging Yuuri back to the too small bed. Yuuri goes without a fuss, curling up in blankets that don’t feel like his with a pillow that doesn’t smell like Victor’s shampoo. 

For a while he just lays there, listening to Phichit fuss about in the kitchen making him something to nibble on between his bouts of anxiety and nausea. Yuuri only comes back to awareness, pulling free of his chaos filled mind, when his own phone gives a soft buzz on his dresser.

Reaching out for it Yuuri ignores his notifications, opening up Instagram again. Victor’s picture is right there, his beautiful smiling face filling the screen. Yuuri sniffs, trying not to start crying when the app jumps and refreshes, showing a new picture that was just posted under Victor’s account. Yuuri snaps upright, wobbling as a wave of dizziness almost has him falling sideways into the wall.

The picture is posted only seconds ago, so it must be true then. His Victor is alive and somehow Yuuri’s been sent back in time. Yuuri fights against the bile rising in the back of his throat. He really has no idea what to do, how to handle this situation. It must be that this is the old Victor, the one that doesn’t know Yuuri because if Victor did then he would certainly have already tried to contact him instead of posting selfies before his competition. 

Pulling up Victor’s other social media accounts results in the same conclusion. He’s tweeting his fans, sending out little thank yous for all the well wishes and answering questions since he has down time. 

It makes sense, Victor had always loved interacting with his fans and he had been the best to do it out of all of their skating friends. Even before they had been together, Victor had gone to hospitals, assisted living homes, anywhere that he could work with and help people he had given his free time to. After, Yuuri had gone along on every trip. 

His finger hovers over the button to tweet his idol, ready to type out some desperate message when Phichit pops back in and Yuuri drops his phone, startled. He’s unused to seeing his best friend this much. 

“I’ve made you some miso, do you think you can make it out to the kitchen or should I bring it in here and we can watch ‘The King and The Skater’ in bed?”

Phichit’s solution for everything had always been to watch his favorite movie and the nostalgia of the memory makes Yuuri feel a little better. They curl up in Yuuri’s bed, laptop propped on a chair and warm bowls of miso cupped in their hands. For just a few moments Yuuri lets the fear and anxiety slip away. He’s mentally drained and the soup is warm in his belly; before he even realizes it his eyes are slipping shut and he’s dozing off against Phichit’s shoulder. 

 

\---

 

Yuuri wakes curled tight against Phichit’s back. His own back is pressed against the wall and the cool of the paint feels good against his warm skin. For a minute, he just lets himself doze, pressing his face to Phichit’s hamster patterned shirt. He feels better today, whatever day he’s in. 

Phichit goes to skating practice at Yuuri’s insistence after they have breakfast. Yuuri doesn’t have the mental strength to pull himself out of bed so instead he curls up under the blanket, going through all of Victor’s social media. Some tweets he remembers, laughing at them quietly until the air around him is hot from his giggling. He favorites each one, presses the little heart on each Instagram picture until he’s liked every single thing Victor has ever posted online. Yuuri knows he looks like an internet stalker but he doesn’t care. 

Somehow, someway, he’s been given another chance. Some strange do over so that Yuuri can stop Victor in the future before he kills himself. He doesn’t know how or why but he isn’t going to waste it. He knows their history better than anyone, he’ll recreate it or maybe he’ll even talk to Victor first when they get to the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri isn’t sure he can wait that long to see the man he loves but in this reality, he’s going to have to make Victor fall in love with him all over again. It would have been an anxiety induced task at one point but now Yuuri knows Victor and how he feels. 

He sleeps the rest of that day, dreaming about all the way he’ll be able to greet Victor when they meet, or what kissing him for the first time again will be like. 

The news breaks three days later when Yuuri is just mentally preparing himself to go to practice with Phichit.

Victor Nikiforov was found dead in his hotel room. 

The news plays the headline while they’re cleaning up breakfast. The plate Yuuri was holding shatters at his feet, his eyes locked to the news station that has the headline on a continuous scroll across the screen. He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen to his knees, pieces of porcelain cutting into his skin as Phichit lets out a panicked cry. 

Yuuri can only kneel on the floor and stare because Victor is dead, a second time. His screams sound like whispers in his own ears. Phichit’s desperate begging for him to calm down reaches him like it’s been spoken underwater. 

Why would he get sent back in time only to have Victor die again? Yuuri wants to curse the heavens, a god, anyone who will listen. 

It’s unfair. 

Cruel.

Sadistic. 

The universe has sent him back only to rip away the one thing that Yuuri loves most in all of the world. He didn’t even get to meet Victor this time.

“What was the point? What was even the fucking point?!” Yuuri screams at the ceiling, at the walls, at his best friend.

There wasn’t a point, to any of this. It was just some cosmic game to torment him. He screams and sobs and curls around his bloody knees. He doesn’t care, about anything. The words just repeat in his head. 

Victor Nikiforov found dead in his room. Victor Nikiforov found dead. Found dead. Dead. 

Dead.

  
Yuuri doesn’t stop screaming, just eventually lets himself pass out as Phichit holds him. The world fades away and Yuuri doesn’t care, not if Victor isn’t in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up the second time, knowing Victor isn’t in the world is almost worse than the first time. This time Yuuri was acutely aware it was going to happen and somehow he still failed to help the man he loved. The morning is the same as the prior one but at least this time Yuuri knows where he is when he opens his eyes and finds himself in his old dorm room.

“Get up Yuuri!” Phichit’s voice is a shrill bell against Yuuri’s eardrums but he doesn’t startle this time. “Honestly.” Phichit stands in the doorway, same as his first reset, giving Yuuri that same amused expression and the dejavu is so hard hitting that Yuuri can hardly swallow. 

“What day is it?” he asks Phichit, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as he forces himself to talk. 

“October 26th. Why?”

Yuuri’s insides turn to ice, his blood running cold through his veins until his fingers are numb and he’s shivering under his blanket. Time hasn’t moved him forward at all, it's the same date as before, which is impossible. But he’d also thought that of time traveling back into the past. “Can I see your phone?”

Phichit gives him a strange look but hands his cell over, watching Yuuri pull up Instagram. He leans over Yuuri’s shoulder, watching as Yuuri desperately scrolls through Victor’s page. “He’s so close to us yet so far away…” Phichit says with a wistful sigh. “Celestino would never let us take time off to go watch the competition in Canada, not with our own competitions coming up soon. I can’t wait to see you kick his butt when you finally meet him in the final.”

Yuuri gives a distracted nod, hardly listening to Phichit as he looks at the last posted photo. It’s the same one, posted only a few minutes ago. Which can only mean that he really has been sent back again. 

“Yuuri?”

Glancing back up at his friend, Yuuri isn’t sure what to do, to say. 

“Are you okay?” Phichit asks and his voice is so gentle and familiar that Yuuri can’t hold back the flood of emotions. 

“No,” he croaks, tears pooling in his eyes. It takes a while for Phichit to calm Yuuri down, the anxiety of the strange situation too much for his frazzled mind. 

“Do you want to go to practice today? Or should I tell Celestino you aren’t feeling well?” Phichit asks. 

Yuuri gives a tired shake of his head, tucking his phone carefully into his pocket with the sound turned on so he’ll hear any and all notifications should Victor’s name come up in any social media posts. 

“Your panic attack was pretty bad…”

“Skating will help clear my head.” Yuuri doesn’t really want to skate; he doesn’t want to do much of anything but he needs a distraction. Right now he can’t make sense of anything and that only feeds into his anxiety. 

The rink is just as he remembers it. Skaters move about, practicing at different levels. Seeing Celestino feels good, his coach clapping a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. While Phichit goes through his practice, Yuuri skates a warmup, running through one of his old routines. He hasn’t skated at this level in years, body too old to complete the jumps. Now though, his youth mixes with past knowledge and Yuuri mindlessly flies through his jumps, skating a gold medal winning performance without conscious thought.

When he stops in the center of the rink his head finally feels a little bit clear.

“Yuuri!”

Turning, Yuuri finds every skater looking at him. Phichit tackles into him with a shout, wrapping Yuuri in a hug. “That was amazing! When have you been practicing that? And a quad flip?! Seriously, what the hell!”

“Yuuri.” Celestino’s voice breaks through Phichit’s excited babble. “Have you been practicing those jumps by yourself?”

“Uh…” Yuuri clenches his fingers, unsure what to answer. The truth makes him sound insane but lying leaves his gut twisted up with guilt. “Yes coach…” he finally mumbles. Better to lie then be shipped off to the insane asylum.

“You don’t need me to tell you how dangerous and reckless that is.”

“I know.” Yuuri sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, I just…” He isn’t sure what to say. They’re routines he knows by heart, performances Victor had created just for him. For just a second, Yuuri had felt connected to him again, like he was reaching out through time and Victor would be reaching back for him. “I wanted to be good enough to meet Victor at the final.”

Celestino’s gaze softens. “You will be. Skate like that and you’ll stand over him on the podium.”

Yuuri nods but it isn’t the podium he wants, it’s Victor himself happy and whole. But Yuuri lets them believe what they want as Phichit goes on about how awesome his run through had been.

That night they watch Victor’s skate on television, Phichit curled into Yuuri’s side giving him expert commentary on all of the skaters competing. Yuuri smiles, fond, because his friend also keeps making subtle jabs that his skate from that day was already loads better than several of the skaters they see perform. Yuuri doesn’t bother to correct him, just lets Phichit have his fun.

There isn’t a men's event the next day so Yuuri focuses solely on skating. He throws his body into it, ignoring the nagging at the back of his mind that tells him he needs to be on alert for anything terrible that could happen to Victor. There isn’t anything he can do here, not yet. It’s too early in their timeline for them to meet or interact without risk. By the time Yuuri finally calls it quits for the night, his feet are raw. When he falls into bed he doesn’t dream, just sleeps.

It’s the same for the next day as well except for Phichit drags him home early so they can curl up with food and watch the men’s free skate. Yuuri isn’t surprised when Victor wins, just feels a deep longing to correct every fake thing he sees in Victor’s appearance.

“He wa awesome wasn’t he Yuuri?” Phichit teases.

“Yeah… he was.”

Yuuri keeps his social media on alert to notify him if Victor comes up in the news but it’s quiet the days following the competition. When he’s not skating, Yuuri glues himself to social media, watching and waiting for new to befall him.

“Come out with us.”

Yuuri sighs as Phichit tugs at his fingers. There isn’t much for him at home and he can’t stay at the rink any more for the night, Celestino has already ordered him to take a rest day tomorrow because of how hard he’s pushed himself this week. There isn’t an excuse Yuuri can make and Phichit knows it. “Fine,” he concedes, covering his ears when Phichit gives an over exaggerated scream of excitement. Maybe a night out will be good for him, clear his mind

They end up in a small sports bar, playing all sorts of different sports on the large televisions around the establishment. Phichit has invited a ton of other skating friends and Yuuri is fine letting him chat with them. He sips his own drink quietly, people watching. Bars are made up of such a strange mix of people, for a minute it takes his mind away from all the stress he’s been living through. The girls night out group that’s sipping wine, the typical frat boys watching a game and cheering loudly over their beers, a quiet and small group in the corner and a flash of silver hair.

Yuuri sits up straighter, zeroing in on the familiar hair color.

“Yuuri look,” Phichit hisses, elbowing him at the same time as Yuuri sees him. 

Victor.

“What’s he doing here?!” Yuuri hisses, mostly to himself but Phichit seems to think the question is directed at him. 

“I don’t know, maybe he came here to get away from people that would recognize him. Who would really expect him to show up in a bar in Detroit. Oh my god, Yuuri go talk to him!” Phichit’s voice is steadily gaining volume, mostly thanks to the three shots of tequila that he’s done so far tonight. “You’re in love with Victor, go talk to him! Hi Victor!”

Yuuri pales, slapping a hand over Phichit’s mouth to silence him. Drool pools between his fingers as he slowly turns back to see blue eyes staring at him. Victor gives him a tiny smile, amusement dancing across his gaze at Phichit’s drunken struggles but all Yuuri can feel is overwhelming panic.

This is too early in their timeline to meet, he wasn’t supposed to run into Victor yet. If he changes things, he changes their future together. He could screw up everything. 

“We’re leaving,” Yuuri snaps, letting go of Phichit’s mouth to grab his hand. Maybe Victor hasn’t really noticed him, maybe this won’t change anything because they didn’t directly interact. Maybe everything will still be okay when he wakes up tomorrow morning.

His beer sits sour in his stomach as he drags Phichit from the bar, ignoring his friends desperate cries of resistance. He also misses the way that small smile falls from Victor’s lips or the way he goes back to drinking completely alone. Yuuri’s too caught up in his own panic and by the time morning comes, he’ll wish he’d been paying closer attention if only for Victor’s sake. 

Instead he helps nurse Phichit through dry heaving all night, falling asleep curled up in the bathroom corner with Phichit’s head pillowed in his lap.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri knows his next plan of action when he resets. His routines are programmed deep inside his bones, he could do them in his sleep. The patterns of life repeat, he watches and monitors Victor’s social media closely but makes no moves to change anything. The first two times he’d made small changes had ended with his husband’s untimely death. 

No, this time Yuuri plans on repeating life how it had been for him before their first meeting. Getting to the Grand Prix isn’t much of an issue, the only anxiety that eats away at him is the fear that it won’t be enough and he’ll be too late again. That fear keeps him awake, taunts his every move. 

When it finally happens, he does better at the Grand Prix Final. He places a respectable fourth to what his sixth place had been but by now Yuuri knows the taste of victory and his own self worth thanks to Victor so he doesn’t mind losing like he once did. His performance is distracted by Victor’s very presence. Yuuri always has one eye on the other skater when he’s in view. 

Victor doesn’t seem to notice and delivers a breathtaking performance like always. Yuuri stands against the boards to watch. He’d missed the way Victor looked on the ice, his skating a song that only Yuuri could hear. His skating now is quiet, a desperate cry for help as he reaches out for someone to pull him back from the dark. Yuuri wants to be the one that is there to pull him back, he’s  _ going  _ to be the one that pulls Victor back. 

He knows the events of his first banquet, if only through stories from Chris, Yurio and finally, Victor. They had all loved it, had claimed Yuuri had loved it too. So that’s his aim this time. He’ll recreate the events from before and make sure that Victor has the night of his life so that when they wake up together in the morning, Yuuri can properly talk to Victor, get him to listen and let Yuuri help somehow. 

Walking into the banquet hall shouldn’t rattle Yuuri’s nerves but it does. He can’t see Victor straight away which means he either isn’t there yet or worse, he isn’t coming. 

“Yuuri,” Chris purrs, sliding up along Yuuri’s side, hand hovering over his ass. “I didn’t expect you to come, you so rarely stay at these dreadful events.”

Yuuri turns enough to look at the Swiss skater, smiling. “Hey Chris.”

“Where is my shy blushing beauty this evening?”

“Took the night off.” Yuuri heads for the table filled with champagne, Chris following at his heels. He grabs the closest flute and tips it back, letting the bubbly sweet liquid fall over his tongue and down his throat.

“Ohh Yuuri, you’ll make a man weak doing things like that.”

The champagne makes him warm from the inside out, calming the nerves in his fingers and smoothing his movements. Yuuri downs a second glass before turning back to Chris. “Is Victor coming tonight?”

Chris blinks before a smirk curls his lips. “Why? Are you going to seduce my dear sweet friend? Sweep him off his feet?”

Yuuri swallows down his nerves. “I’m going to ask him to dance.” The pleased look that Chris gives him has Yuuri reaching for another drink, downing that one just as quickly. “So that's why I need to know if he’s going to be here tonight.”

“I’ll text him for you,” Chris promises, letting his hand drop and give Yuuri’s ass one more squeeze before he’s wandering off. 

While he waits, Yuuri drinks. He goes slower, he wants to remember things this time but it seems like it takes Victor a long time to show up to the banquet. Yuri is there, sulking in the corner with Yakov as his chaperone, Milla is conspiring with Sarah and Georgi is wooing a sponsor with some story of his beloved Anya. It makes him smile around his drink. The Russian team had become like family when he’d moved in with Victor, they’d accepted him as one of their own without any complaints. It’s just one more thing that Yuuri longs for, misses with all of his heart. 

But not as much as he misses Victor.

Yuuri’s halfway through another glass of champagne when he sees Victor come in through the doors. He’s dressed in a beautiful grey suit that clings in all the right ways, his hair is pulled back, shining in the light of the ballroom and his smile is completely fake. Yuuri’s heart wrenches tight in his chest.

“I got him to come down for you,” Chris purrs, finding his way back to Yuuri’s side seemingly from nowhere. “It wasn’t an easy task my handsome friend. Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri mumbles, not taking his eyes off of Victor as he chats with sponsors. “I’m going to need you to get a pole.”

 

\---

 

If this were any other time in Yuuri’s life he would sooner die of embarrassment than willingly pole dance in front of all his friends and the sponsors for every major sporting company but here he is, pleasantly tipsy and stripping off his pants and suit jacket. He can hear Milla’s excited giggles in the background but Chris is already turning up the music on his portable speaker.

Across the room Victor turns from whichever sponsor he’s talking with and meets Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri pulls his tie loose and grabs the pole, not breaking eye contact with the gorgeous Russian man across the room. He can see Victor’s eyes widen, the faint blush that jumps up across his pale cheeks as Yuuri pulls himself up onto the pole. 

The pole dancing classes that he and Phichit took together in Detroit were something Yuuri was always a little embarrassed by but he had been good at it, had enjoyed the power that being on the pole gave him. He uses all of that now, twisting and turning his body with the music until Victor is standing right in front of him, watching him with rapt attention. When Yuuri finally swings down off the pole he offers out a hand for Victor to take, his own cheeks flushed and skin warm from the exercise. 

“Dance with me?” Yuuri breaths, grinning.

Victor’s answering smile punches the air from Yuuri’s lungs. He doesn’t regain his breath all night, twirling around the ballroom again and again until neither of them can breath. They talk, they laugh, they drink, they end up in Victor’s room, curled up on top of the hotel bed comforter. 

Yuuri runs his fingers through silver hair, reveling in being close to Victor again. 

“This whole night has been amazing,” Victor whispers, smiling when Yuuri lays a kiss against his wrist. “Where did you even come from Yuuri…?”

“I’ve always been here,” Yuuri whispers. “I’ve always watched you Victor, admired you, wanted to be like you. You’re such an amazing person, such an amazing skater.” He closes his eyes, missing the way Victor’s smile fades. “Meeting you, being with you, it’s all I’ve wanted.” The liquor makes him sleepy, being pressed against Victor relaxes his weary mind.

“Goodnight Yuuri,” Victor whispers. 

Yuuri presses in close to Victor’s chest, warm and drunk and happy. “Goodnight Victor.”


	4. Chapter 4

It’s waking up in his bed in Detroit for the fourth time that threatens to break Yuuri’s sanity. He had thought for sure this time he would succeed; that he would get to wake up next to his (hopefully) future husband. They could kiss and talk and Yuuri could somehow make it all better. But that isn’t the reality that he’s living in it seems. He failed again and he isn’t sure why.

Yuuri doesn’t scream or cry this time, he’s wasted enough time on that. Maybe his silence scares Phichit more than his outbursts ever did but he can’t muster the strength to try. In the shower several angry hot tears gather and fall, mixing in with the scalding water that cascades over his head and shoulders. Crying doesn’t change anything but when Yuuri finally steps out his despair is replaced with determination. 

“Are you okay?” Phichit asks him, voice quiet as he stands in the doorway and watches Yuuri pack his skating bag. “You seemed kinda out of it when you got up.”

“Just working on some stuff; it’s okay Peach.” Yuuri gives him a smile, though his muscles feel strained pulling into the shape. 

Phichit must read right through his lie because his best friend doesn’t leave. “Are you sure you want to go to practice today?”

Skating does help but at this point, Yuuri has done his routines for one competition four times over a long period of practice months leading to competitions. The routines are ingrained in his muscles, the music a part of his bones in a way he’s never known before with a regular skating season. Practice won’t help him this time.

“I need to drive to Canada.”

Phichit just stares at Yuuri like he’s grown a second head. “What?”

“I need to go to Canada, today. Right now.” Yuuri stands, slinging his bag up and over his shoulder. He knows Phichit isn’t going to let him go alone but he also isn’t even really sure how he’s going to convince his friend he’s not insane either. But Yuuri can’t sit still and let another timeline go by where he fails Victor. He can’t wake up again in this dorm room, knowing that he’s lost Victor. Yuuri won’t survive another reset. 

“I don’t…” Phichit hesitates. “Is it important?”

Yuuri nods.

“Okay. I mean… I feel like I should probably call Celestino and make him take you to a therapist or something responsible but I’m also your best friend so if you say it’s important, then I’m gonna help.” Phichit grins and Yuuri is flooded by an overwhelming fondness for his friend. No questions asked about why, just blind faith that Yuuri’s reasoning is important.

“Thank you.”

Phichit nods, grabbing his own bag to follow after Yuuri. “One question though,” he says. “How are we getting to Canada?”

Normal Yuuri would have had a mental snap just from the question alone but he’s too determined, has done this too many times to be worried about how he’s going to make his plan happen. He just is. “We’ll figure it out.”

Figuring it out somehow leads them to their original destination for the day anyways and Celestino does not look happy with them when they walk in thirty minutes past when they’re supposed to be at practice.

“I’m sorry coach,” Yuuri says before his mentor can launch into a rant. “But we can’t stay for practice today. And I need a favor.” Celestino pauses in what Yuuri is sure was going to be a tirade at them skipping. He knows his behavior is stranger than the reserved person he had been, but this is too important. “I need to borrow your car to get to Canada, today.”

The look Celestino gives him is the same baffled, confused and worried look Phichit had given him not even twenty minutes ago. “What are you going on about Yuuri?”

“I know it’s insane but I have to get to Skate Canada and I need to get there quickly.” 

“You can’t drive?” Phichit mumbles, looking confused again. 

Yuuri would argue that yes he can, Victor taught him in one obnoxious pink convertible but that would raise more questions than Yuuri has time to answer at the moment. “Look, I either need to drive your car or I’ll be hitchhiking there and who knows what could happen then.”

“Yuuri!” Phichit gasps but Yuuri won’t back down, staring up at Celestino with a determination he’s never had before. 

“In return, I’ll win you gold at the next competition coach. I know it’s insane what I’m asking, but I have to go do this. I promise my routines are ready; I’ll bring you a gold, two gold, as many gold medals as it’ll take for you to help me get there.” Yuuri bows slightly, the pent up emotion and worry about not making it to Victor in time bubbling up into his voice. “Please.”

Celestino looks between his two students, the silence as heavy as his gaze against Yuuri’s bowed back. Finally he sighs. “Honestly boys, I don’t know what this is about but if it’s really that important to you Yuuri, I’ll take you myself.”

Yuuri starts, looking back up at the man. Celestino claps him on the back before pulling him into a hug. 

“You know I’m here to take care of you, if this is what you need to light that fire I can see burning inside of you, then we’ll go. But,” Celestino says, pulling back to hold Yuuri at arms length. “I expect you to follow through on that promise, two gold medals.”

Tears spring to Yuuri’s eyes before he’s being crushed against his coach’s chest, held tight in a hug. Again he’s reminded just how much love and support he’s always been surrounded by and Yuuri knows that he’s so lucky to have so many people that would do this insane request for him without asking him why. “Thank you coach,” he whispers, voice wet with barely contained emotion.

 

\---

 

The drive there feels like it takes forever. Yuuri fidgets and fiddles the entire ride, too wound up to sleep and too terrified to explain to his friend and coach what his life has become. Celestino tries to ask once but Phichit jumps in as a distraction when he sees the terrified look in Yuuri’s eyes.

The road flies by under them, the world a blended together mess of color as they drive but it crawls along in Yuuri’s mind, time dragging over his skin like a bad rash that won’t go away. What if he’s too late and something has already happened? 

It doesn’t actually take them that long to arrive at the Windsor event center where the skating competition is being held. Yuuri doesn’t immediately see Victor with Yakov or anyone else from team Russia that happens to be scheduled at that event but Yakov doesn’t look panicked so Yuuri’s guessing that for the moment, Victor is safe somewhere. His eyes still dart back and forth with each new wave of people, desperate for a splash of silver hair to appear.

Celestino starts to ask him something but Yuuri is already gone, hurrying down the halls of the arena. He checks the skaters area, the bathrooms, the lounge. Victor isn’t anywhere in the building. Yuuri looks at the schedule but Victor isn’t scheduled to skate until later, surely he wouldn't do anything before he was supposed to skate. But then again, Victor was always full of surprises.

The panic returns full force, choking Yuuri’s throat until his breath is coming out in pained gasps. He can’t do this, he doesn't know how to survive this again. 

He doesn’t want to survive this again.

“Yo.”

Yuuri looks up, startled from where he’s curled around the bathroom sink. Yurio stands in the bathroom doorway looking every bit the irritated young teenager that Yuuri remembers. 

“Yurio!” Yuuri rushes his friend even though Yuri doesn’t know him yet in this timeline. “Where’s Victor? I need to talk to him right now!”

Yuri recoils and Yuuri really should be used to everyone looking at him like he’s gone insane by now. 

“Yuri, please.” Yuuri whispers, sagging with the crushing weight of everything.

“I…” Yuri shifts under Yuuri’s grip. “He wanted some air, he’s out on the bridge.”

Yuuri turns and runs, the fear making his heart race and his breath freeze. He knows his way, where Victor probably is and his feet can’t carry him there fast enough. His shoulder smashes into another person, he stumbles and almost twists his ankle falling over someone's luggage but he gets outside somehow. People snap at him on the street as he keeps going but the air is chill with the fall air and over the bridge only cars drive. No people are walking or standing around so his eyes find the man he’s been searching for almost immediately. He’s leaning over the rail of the bridge. Victor looks so sad and worn down, shoulders slumped and hair covering his face.

“Vitya!”

Victor looks up at the call of his name, eyebrows furrowing with confusion when he finds Yuuri standing there across from him. “Do I kno-”

“I’m the skater that represents Japan, we haven’t actually skated together yet.” Yuuri stands straighter, a confidence he knows his younger past self never would have had. It’s weird seeing Victor like this, before their original timeline had officially crossed. He’s been caught off guard but the walls he wears are going up, Yuuri knows his husband well enough to see those professional smiles overtaking his true feelings.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, would you like an autograph?”

Yuuri could almost find it amusing, being offering something so similar to a photo just like the first time he and Victor spoke. It seems that the more he changes things, the more they just seem to stay the same. “No, thank you.”

The rejection colors Victor’s face with confusion. “I’m sorry I don’t know what you’d like from me then, I should really get ba-”

“You don’t have to hide from me.”

Victor pulls up short, pausing. “What?”

“I know how much you’re hurting, I know how lonely you are. I can help; please let me help,” Yuuri says fulling aware that he sounds exactly like a crazy person. 

Except he’s out of ideas, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. In every timeline he’s tried, no matter how or when or where he’s met Victor, the ending has always been the same. Whatever sort of strange hell Yuuri’s stuck in, it’s slowly killing him and he isn’t sure he can survive going through another universe where Victor kills himself. 

“I know you don’t know me now; I know I sound like a complete crazy person but we did once upon a time. I know you believe in all of those fairytales and I’m telling you, I’m here for you now so please, don’t leave again.”

Victor’s blue eyes cloud and he draws back. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he says, voice cold and distant and Yuuri can feel himself losing Victor. His feet move without thinking and Victor looks startled, edging toward scared as Yuuri grabs his arm. 

“Please Vitya!”

“Don’t!” Victor yanks away from Yuuri, eyes wide. Clearly he thinks Yuuri’s one of those crazed fans, and while Yuuri is and that didn’t bother his past Vitya, this one doesn’t know him and doesn’t trust him. “I’ll forget this happened because you’re a fellow skater but don’t come near me again,” Victor warns. He turns before Yuuri can say anything in answer and leaves Yuuri standing all alone on the bridge.


	5. Chapter 5

Being hailed as a country’s hero is a dangerous thing. Victor learned it too late in life, when he was already in the spotlight and his every move became something the media and the world watched. He could never go out and be a normal person, he had to be an example. It pushed people away, alienated him from everyone around him. Even his own rink mates still look at him in awe most days. Yakov was the only one that knew Victor as he was but even then he was a coach more than a father figure. 

Whoever said that being on top was lonely had been correct.

Victor couldn’t explain it, he had everything he could ever want or need and still sadness filled up the cracks in his heart, bogged down the thoughts in his brain until all he could see was how miserable and hopeless he always was.  

He’d silently struggled with the depression for years. Victor had done some research, he should have likely gone in to a doctor but he didn’t want the media somehow turning it against him.

And now when he’d been thinking about ending it, some beautiful skating boy had shown up on the bridge and told him he didn’t have to hide. Victor had been hiding for years, hiding so well no one had ever guessed how much he was really hurting until someone came along and offered to help. 

The Japanese skater had also seemed as crazy as they came. 

Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, Victor’s fingers brush against something. Pulling it free, he finds a crumpled up piece of paper. The flowing scrawl inside reads  _ Yuuri _ with a phone number printed underneath.

Persistent, stubborn and crazy, Victor silently amends in his head. 

Still, when his hand moves to throw the piece of paper away his fingers freeze around it, unwilling to let go. 

Victor can’t believe he’s thinking of calling the number, but really, he’d been about to kill himself. What more did he really have to lose by calling the number the younger man had desperately shoved into his pocket when he hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Hello?” 

The voice on the other side of the line sounds weak, choked up from heavy crying. Victor isn’t sure what to make of this completely bizarre situation. “Yuuri?”

“Victor!?” Yuuri’s voice jumps in pitch, nearing a scream. “Are you okay? Did anything happen? Can I help somehow?”

“I-” Victor looks down at the counter he’s sitting at, the swirling patterns of the granite cold under his fingertips. “I’m not really sure why I called you… I don’t even know you.”

“You don’t,” Yuuri confirms, words gentle. He’s calmed himself on the other end of the phone and the less hysterical sounding voice makes Victor relax some as well, makes him feel like he isn’t talking to a potentially dangerous person. “But you will, or… you can. I can explain everything, it’ll sound insane and maybe I am but I swear it’s the truth.”

“You act like you know me.”

“I do know you,” Yuuri says and he sounds so desperate it makes something painful twist in Victor’s heart. No one has ever sounded so sure of themselves, thinking that they know who he is, the real Victor and not the Victor that the media portrays and that a country hails as a skating hero. 

“How do I know I can trust anything you say?”

“You’re just going to have to take a leap of faith. But I promise to meet you where you are Victor, I would never do anything to hurt you. I only want to help; I  _ know  _ that I can help.”

Victor isn’t really sure what to make of the desperate voice on the other side of the line and he isn’t sure why he even called in the first place but after months of being stuck inside his own head, spiraling toward the edge of something he’s contemplating stepping over… “We have to meet somewhere with people.”

“The little cafe down the road from the ice rink,” Yuuri immediately answers and the relief is so noticeable in his voice Victor can almost believe that he isn’t making a stupid decision. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Victor says and hangs up before Yuuri can answer. The entire thing is too weird for him. If he ignores what he’s doing, makes the irresponsible Nikiforov decisions that Yakov is always accusing him of making then he can almost feel better about it.

Almost, but not quite. 

The cafe is quiet, busy for the evenings but not overly so that anyone will be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. Victor arrives early to make sure it’s somewhere safe and is surprised to find Yuuri already there. He’s sitting at a corner table, fingers curled around a disposable coffee cup. The steam is fogging up his glasses some but he doesn’t make any move to wipe it away. He’s hunched over in his Japanese team jacket, looking more small and feeble than he had when he had spoken to Victor on the bridge. 

“Oh!” Yuuri says as he notices Victor’s slow approach. “I already paid for your coffee, just go tell the barista whatever it is you want. It’s covered.” Yuuri gives him a small smile and Victor isn’t really sure how to respond to it, or anything, so he just nods and heads over to the counter. 

When he comes back, Yuuri looks more confident again. He’s pushed his hands through his hair so it’s out of his face and the look is attractive. Victor would much prefer if this was a date instead of some weird stalker level meetup. “So…”

Yuuri’s face flushes a soft red, the blush spreading across his cheeks slowly. “I know this is all going to sound insane, it is insane… but… just listen to me till the end? If you need to call the cops on me after that, maybe I just can’t do anything to change any timeline, I don’t know… but I have to keep trying for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Victor sips at his frappachino, the normally sweet drink tasting bitter on his tongue. 

“In the future, or maybe a different universe altogether…” Yuuri starts, looking embarrassed. “We were married once, for 47 years. We were gonna grow old together. You had the most adorable wrinkles around your eyes from always laughing and smiling… You hated them.”

Victor would have stood up immediately if Yuuri’s voice wasn’t wet with barely checked emotions. “You know you aren’t making any sense right?”

Yuuri laughs, something soft and tainted with so much sadness. “I know.”

“Maybe… just start from the beginning?”

Yuuri does and Victor listens, torn between fear of how insane it all sounds and jealousy that he isn’t getting to experience the things that Yuuri is describing to him. Their life, whether real or made up, sounded so full of life and love. The things that have been missing from Victor’s life for years now, he had all of them in Yuuri’s story. They had been happy together. 

Even if everything Yuuri said isn’t true anger coils in his gut at the version of himself that would give that all up. Victor knows there are plenty of obsessed and crazy fans of his out in the world and Yuuri could very well be one of those people, but the things that are being described are the things that Victor longs for, that keep him up at night wanting to end it because he doesn’t have anything like it. 

“I found him… you… curled up in our bed.” Yuuri’s voice cracks, tears finally falling from his eyes. “I called the police and just… I just held you until they got there.” Yuuri leans over himself, burying his face in his hands. The sobs he lets out are soft so as not to disturb the people around him but there is real pain there, so much pain that there is no way that he could be making up such a story.

“I’m sorry,” Victor breaths, his own eyes itching with moisture. “I don’t- I don’t know why I would do that to you.”

“You were hurting and I never knew, it was me that let you suffer. All of this was my fault to begin with. I should have known, I should have asked when you seemed more sad. I shouldn’t have let you hide from me.” Yuuri looks up at Victor, pleading. “I can’t do much but I can try to help Victor. Please. I can’t lose you again.”

Victor’s throat tightens with a harsh flood of emotions he’s never let out before. “How can I trust any of this is even real?”

“You don’t have to believe me… I probably wouldn’t believe me.”

Victor isn’t sure he does believe it but he wants to, he wants so badly to know that at some point he found a happiness that would chip away at the loneliness he feels now. 

Yuuri reaches forward, touching the back of Victor’s knuckles with such tenderness that a tear slips down Victor’s cheek. “I’m not saying you have to recreate all of that. I’m not saying you have to be with me.”

Something in Victor’s chest squeezes at those words. 

“I’m just begging you not to give up here. Even if I can’t be with you, the world needs Victor Nikiforov.”

“Because I’m a skating legend…” Victor turns away, the same crushing weight settling on his shoulders that always does whenever he has to take up a roll, hide behind a mask to be a public figure that can do no wrong.

Yuuri smiles. “You misunderstand me,” he says, voice quiet. Victor watches from the corner of his eye as Yuuri traces the empty skin of his ring finger. “The world doesn’t need you because of your skating or your fame. It needs you because you’re you and there’s no one else that can be that. You’re something special and beautiful just because of who you are.”

Victor’s heart stutters, cracks and then shatters in his chest. He wants to cling to Yuuri, release all of the years of bottled up emotions; to finally cry and be free to feel. Victor wants to trust Yuuri with that type of emotion because it seems that he would take care of Victor. Maybe they could take care of each other. 

“You said you wouldn’t need to be with me…” Victor mumbles, looking down at his coffee. “But.. but what if I wanted to try that option? I mean, I ended up with you before and we sounded happy so, I mean - I could be the same as the other Victor! I’m him so -” Victor shuts up when Yuuri’s hand returns to his, squeezing it gently.

“If that’s what you want, yes, but you don’t need to be anyone but yourself. I want to get to know the Victor of this timeline too.”

Yuuri’s smile is breathtaking, his brown eyes sparkling in the low light of the cafe. Victor is fairly sure he’s never seen anyone so beautiful before in his life. His heart is already a stuttering mess at Yuuri’s sincere words; words no one has ever spoken to Victor before. For just a moment, some of that crushing sadness lifts and he can give a real smile to the young Japanese skater sitting across from him. “I’d like that,” he whispers.

“Well then Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri says holding out his hand. “I’m Katsuki Yuuri, it’s nice to meet you.”


	6. Epilogue

Sixth months isn’t much time to get to know someone but in that time Victor has learned a lot about Yuuri, and a lot about himself. 

His depression isn’t gone, it probably won’t ever fully disappear but the sadness is less now. Most days Victor can breath without feeling like he’s being strangled from the inside. Yuuri’s moved to Russia to be with him. It’s fast, the media had a fit when they learned that not only was Victor suddenly dating a relatively unknown skater but said skater was moving across the world to be with him. 

Life is fun again, brighter than it had been. Yuuri brings with him new changes, ones that everyone seems to approve of. Yuuri skates at Victor’s rink, though he doesn’t take time away from anyone else’s practice. Instead he skates to programs from his past, practicing them quietly over in empty spots of the rink, a wistful look in his brown eyes. Yuuri won’t tell him who created the programs he skates to but Victor thinks it might have been him. All Yuuri ever says is that he can’t change the programs because they mean too much to him. “They’re a final message to someone I love and I’m honoring that love by skating it one last time.”

When life gets hard, with some days just eating Victor alive slowly from the inside, Yuuri is there and waiting for him. The only promise Victor had to make when Yuuri came with him back to Russia was that Victor would never hide those emotions. He’s seeing a therapist, taking medication. He’s taking steps to make sure he handles his depression this time.

“Morning.”

Lips press against Victor’s hair as Yuuri stirs in the bed next to him. Brown eyes shine almost gold in the soft morning sun spilling through the windows. Yuuri’s hair sticks up at random angles, his skin is warm, his cheeks dusted pink from the sleep slowly letting go of him. 

Victor snuggles in deeper under the blankets, pressing his face to Yuuri’s chest. The gentle thump of his heart plays under Victor’s ear until he wants to fall back asleep, held tightly against his boyfriend.

Yuuri’s lips press against his forehead. “We should get up Vitya,” he breaths into Victor’s hair. “We have a long day of practice for the Grand Prix coming up. I’ll make you breakfast after we shower. Let me wash your hair today?”

“Okay…” Victor whispers. Before he had dreaded these days, long, lonely and empty. But now Victor welcomes the idea of stepping out onto the ice. “Could we.. maybe snuggle for a few more minutes before we get up though?” he asks when Yuuri starts to move.

Yuuri huffs a laugh and wraps his arms back around Victor, laying his cheek against silver hair. Closing his eyes, Victor settles back in. For now he’s happy, maybe he won’t be all the time, but Yuuri’s here to help chase away the demons that hide in the shadows of his mind. When he steps out onto the ice at the Grand Prix Final, he’ll be ready to tell the story of how Yuuri saved his life and how he continues to do so every day. 

It’s a quiet morning with the sun just peeking over the buildings in St. Petersburg when Victor decides that he’s going to live. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Once again big thanks for my [artist](http://swordbreaker.tumblr.com/%22).
> 
> I hope you liked it, let me know in the comments you thoughts. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tothebatcave53.tumblr.com/) here.  
> 


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